“The Noreaster,” a writer in New England, posted this in the comments of the Elizabeth Gilbert post on creative genius – one of the most profound things I’ve ever read on this blog:

I remember last winter I was in the middle of a late night conversation with the Muse and then suddenly, He just left. At first I thought I just lost my train of thought, but I can usually find it again if I review my notes and my physical steps — literally being in the exact same place doing the exact same thing will let me get it back. Even if the only thing I have to write is a piece of toilet paper while I’m — okay, I’ll leave that part out. But, I was onto something big — or so I thought (in a different place and situation) — when suddenly every thought I had about the subject vanished in an instant. Just like that. And you something? I was furious. Oh man, was I mad. I mean it. And I let God know how I felt about it, too: “I almost had it! Why did You leave?!?!” Actually, God will never leave. And, assuming I’m not completely off my rocker: angels are messengers so maybe, just maybe, they play a role here, too. Honestly, I reaally think they do. Because I’ve felt that something from someone outside of me…

…And I just got a text message, which means I lost my train of thought.

But, don’t worry; I’ll be back. 

A few minutes go by, then:

Back.

And I love how the concept Gilbert presents here totally takes the burden off my shoulders. I think Orson Wells would have had a much longer, better, and more fulfilling film career if he hadn’t taken so much of the burden upon himself. And then, of course, there are musicians who simply can’t live with the burden of, say — I am so ignoroing that text message — can’t live with the burden of having created something so big. It’s why Elvis died and why M&M had to write Recovery. But if you look at Bono — I sure wish that red light would stop telling me I have a text msg — if you look at Bono, he always always always took God with Him out for a night on the town, even if he was just doing the snake dance. And that’s how and why, in large part, he is so good at what he does onstage and everything else he does offstage. He ultimately gives credit where credit is due and when we don’t do that, when we assume sole responsibility for what our creativity creates, it destroys us. You see it all the time in an age of “celebrity culture” — and that red light is seriously getting [on] my nerves…too doistracting. Our brains are not built for multi-tasking; I don’t [care] what anybody says.

I’ll be back.

He didn’t come back.

And this is exactly why I have to turn off the internet, silence my phone, and sit in solitude to really crank out songs.

How do you battle the war with technology in your own life?